


These Names (will be the death of me)

by kalkalash



Series: Avengers Mob AU [1]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, BAMF Tony Stark, Howling Commandos (Steve's Mob), Hurt Tony Stark, Hydra (rival mob), Impressed Bucky Barnes, M/M, Mafia AU, Protective Steve Rogers, Stony - Freeform, i found a website that creates mob names so i had to write this, overall more cute than angst, slight brutasha, some strong language, what is the ship name for thor and sif?, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 11:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7755475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalkalash/pseuds/kalkalash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tony finds out that his boyfriend runs a mob, and that they all have ridiculous "mob" names</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Names (will be the death of me)

**Author's Note:**

> My first stony fic! Hope you like it!
> 
> EDIT: thank you guys for all the kudos and comments! hopefully, i can get another story in this universe for you soon!!

“When the  _ fuck _ were you planning to tell me that you were a mob boss?” Tony asked, as he stormed into Steve’s apartment, filled with anger at not being informed of this slightly important tidbit.

Steve froze, as well his friends, (and frankly Tony’s friends as well, but because of his level of anger they were temporarily demoted to acquaintances). They were all huddled around a table with building plans sprawled across the top, their attention now turned to him, most of them sporting a look of surprise. There was Bucky, Steve’s best friend; Natasha, the redhead that frankly scared the crap out of him; Clint, the frat boy as he fondly thought of him, and Thor, who was grinning jovially. Even Bruce, who was first Tony’s friend mind you, was quietly tucked in a corner, the little traitor. Tony mildly wondered where Sam was, but quickly dismissed the thought in favor of speaking.

“What? Even Bruce knows that you’re a mob boss? I find this highly unfair. I have known all of you longer than him for god’s sake. Is this because he has better hair than me?”

“Uh…” Steve started, but Tony still had a lot of ranting to get through so, he quickly cut him off.

“And seriously, out of all of the mob names that you could have picked, you go with the ‘Howling Commandos’? You realize that the name is giving you a more 80’s biker gang feel right? And implying that y'all go commando?” Tony said, gesturing downtown. Bucky, who seemed to have been shaken out of his surprise, unsuccessfully hid a grin behind his hand. “You could have gone for…ooooh, the Brooklyn Syndicate, yeah that sounds better,” he muttered, feeling a little light headed.

Tony caught sight of his reflection in a mirror and barely suppressed a flinch. Those cuts that he had assumed were superficial at best were currently dripping blood at an alarming rate.  He supposed the adrenaline of the whole ordeal had masked the true pain of it all. Well, at least that explained everyone’s shock; the lacerations, bruises, and dirt had somehow tarnished his good looks. He really wished that he had made that bomb more explosive.

"Do you have a first aid kit anywhere?"

"Above the fridge, you lucky son of a bitch," Clint replied, with a disbelieving smirk on his face.

"Here, let me do that," Bruce offered, rising from his corner nest and taking the kit out of Tony’s hands, forcing him gently on a kitchen stool. Tony started talking again, not minding that Bruce had started his ministrations.

"I mean, it's bad enough, Brucie, that I have to find out from some other mob boss that my boyfriend runs a mafia of his own, but you know what pierces my weak heart even more?"

"What, Tony?" Bruce fondly asked, as he slapped a Band-Aid on his forehead.

"Their godawful names, Brucie. You know that Bucky is Bucky 'Smiley' Barnes? Who even came up with that? Who looked at him and thought “Yeah, Smiley. That’s his name’. If I may make a suggestion,” Tony trailed off, and Bucky shrugged defensively.

“Let’s see what you got.”

“Bucky ‘Cannon’ Barnes. Get it? Get it?” he asked. “Like Buchanan, Bucky ‘Cannon’ Barnes.” Thor laughed in approval, while Bucky just shook his head.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want to change my name, Stevie.” Bucky said, and Steve could only gape as he did when Tony walked into the room.

“What are the other’s names, Tony?” Bruce asked absently, as he prodded Tony’s abdomen, probably checking for any rib injuries, and trying to divert his attention from any pain.

“Oh my god, Bruce, you cannot believe Clint’s. May I present Clinton ‘Egg-Man’ Barton? I can only assume the name comes from egging an enemy’s house when he was 16. I really hope that he still doesn’t do that against other mob groups.”

“Nope,” Clint answered, “I use arrows now.”

“Yeah, the medieval tech is not really an improvement, Barton. At least your choice of weapon is not as bad as Sam’s name. Sam ‘Lemon’ Wilson? What does that even refer too? Did you choose this shit by yourselves, or when you were flat-out drunk?”

“When they were flat-out drunk,” Natasha replied.

“That’s why your name actually sounds cool. Bruce, meet, Natasha ‘Widow Maker’ Romanoff. I can only hope that you don’t point that gun at me after roasting your biker gang so much. Please excuse me, I’m in a great level of pain and am extremely furious at my boyfriend.“

“You’re excused.”

“Thank you, darling. Now what I really want to talk about is Thor’s name, because frankly it’s perfect. Thor ‘Shorty’ Odinson. It’s like a stripper name, and I love it. It’s so ironic too, cause who would look to Thor and think he’s short?” he asked, pointing at the blond giant. “Good on you, Thor, for being able to choose a proper mob name even while being enormously drunk.”

“All with your blessings, Tony,” Thor said, bowing mockingly.

“That’s Master Tony to you, grasshopper.”

“All right, that’s it. Your face is back to its previous state, give or take a few cuts, and I’m pretty sure two of your ribs are bruised, so please don’t move around too much, ok?” Bruce said, as he started to put away the kit. Steve suddenly seemed to regain the ability to move again, and rushed to Tony’s side immediately.

“Are you ok?” Steve asked, standing next to Tony, but for some reason, still giving him personal room. Tony had hoped for a  _ yay, you’re not  _ dead kiss from Steve, but it didn’t seem like he was getting one of those now.

“What do you think?” Tony asked.

“Well, Bruce didn’t find a concussion, so you’re rambling like normal, and not under brain damage. Those ribs will take about 3 or 4 weeks to heal, and they’re going to hurt like a bitch when you move, so you’re not going back into the workshop. I’ll stay at the Tower if I have to.”  

“Oh, I love it when you talk dirty.” Tony murmured. Steve furrowed his brow.

“I only said the word bitch.”

“Yeah, and that usually takes a fantastic blowjob to get out of you.” Clint groaned in the background.

“TMI, Stark. Really?” Tony peered around the side of Steve.

“And the moans I hear from your bedroom when you and Bucky get it on? Is that not TMI, Clint?” Clint’s eyes widened, while Bucky just looked to the sky, as if asking God to strike him down now so that he didn’t have to be part of this conversation. To Tony’s surprise, Natasha let out a bark of laughter. Steve merely looked confused.

“How did you even know that? I sleep with you and I haven’t heard them.” Tony quickly went to mollify him.

“Well, honey you sleep like a dead man, and what’s with that tone of surprise, I know a lot of things!”

“Oh really, Stark? I disagree with that,” Natasha retorted.

“Do not underestimate Master Tony. We have done that once today, and were sorely proven wrong.”

“See, that’s why Thor’s my favorite, after you of course, Steve. Don’t turn those big blue eyes on me.” Tony twisted his wrist, pleased to find that his watch had survived today’s trials. “You should go, grasshopper, you’re going to be late for those dinner reservations.” Thor’s eyes widened, and searched for his blazer and wallet before finally making it out the door.

“I’m not even going to ask how you knew, Master Tony, but thank you.”

“No problem, Shorty. Everybody, wish Thor ‘Good Luck!’” The room chorused the words, and the apartment door slammed before those questioning looks reappeared on their faces. “He’s proposing to Sif today. See, I know things. Like Bruce and Natasha would get together if they would just admit their damn feelings. And, Bucky and Clint, I think we all know that you two aren’t just fuck-buddies, honestly get on that you two.” The room fell into silence as Bucky and Clint started making silent gestures to one another, and Bruce and Natasha were communicating with just their eyes. It freaked Tony out so he turned back to Steve.

“But Widow Maker was right. I don't  know some things. For example, I didn’t know that my boyfriend was a mob boss. It was kinda awkward to find that out while being handcuffed to a radiator that was older than Harrison Ford.” Steve’s eyes hardened and his voice was commanding when he spoke.

“What did they do to you?” Was it wrong for Tony to feel slightly aroused at that tone?

“Steve, they only had me for 2 hours. They really couldn’t do much.”

“What. Did. They. Do?” Tony sighed, realizing that he was not getting out of this one.

“Hit me a couple of times asking about you. Then, they decided to wait until some guy named Red Skull, these nicknames, honestly, showed up. That’s when I lock picked my handcuffs, disabled the two guards at the door, grabbed one of their uniforms and managed to slip out with almost no one noticing by creating a tiny explosive.” Steve’s face crumpled.

“I’ve still got to ask. How does a billionaire manage to knock out,” Bucky looked at the plans at the table, “at least 10 guards by himself?”

“Being a billionaire means that I’m more likely to be kidnapped than your average person. Stark Industries has a no ransom policy. I learned self-defense when I was young,” Tony shrugged. He turned to look at Steve, who somehow look more crushed than at those words.

“I’m so sorry, Tony. I should have known that you would have been dragged into this. And now you’re hurt and it’s all my fault,” he finished, still keeping an annoying distance away. Tony barely registered the door closing as he quickly responded.

“Steve. None of this was your fault. And look at me, I’m fine.”

“I should have known. I mean there was chatter on the lines, and something Madame Masque said when we fought her last really bothered me, and I feel so stupid that I didn’t see it earlier. It’s ok if you’re mad at me or hate me and you want to break up; I probably deserve it.” Tony waved his hands in front of Steve, motioning him to stop.

“Whoa, whoa, when did I ever say I was mad at you? Or that I wanted to break up?”

“Tony, I run a  _ freaking _ mob. You were  _ kidnapped _ because of me. You would be crazy to stay,” Steve muttered.

“Is that why you haven’t laid a finger on me since I got here? Not even an  _ I’m glad you’re not dead _ kiss?”

“You would be crazy to stay,” Steve parroted again.

“Steve, I’m not breaking up with you. In fact, I’m crazy in love with you, so why would I even leave?” Tony quickly rambled, trying to reassure Steve before realizing what he had said. Steve’s eyes widened.

“You’re in love with me?” Tony could feel a blush erupting from the back of his neck, and fought to keep it off his cheeks.

“Yes, you dumbass, I’m in love with you—“ Tony was cut off as Steve’s lips crashed into his own, filled with passion, relief, and maybe a little love as well. Because of his damned ribs, Tony ended up pulling away first (really, for the first time in his life), and instead touched foreheads with Steve.

“I’m in love with you too, Shellhead,” Steve said, as he took Tony’s hand into his own, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. They stayed quiet like that for a little while, probably for about two seconds, because really Tony never learned how to keep his mouth shut unless it was doing other things, namely kissing Steve breathless.

“Though, I do have one little bone to pick with you…” Tony muttered, and Steve jolted back up.

“What?” he asked, sounding a little worried.

“I wish you had at least told me that your mob name was Captain. God, I get a hard on just thinking about it right now. Our sex could have been fantastic.” Steve blushed again, and Tony wasn’t exactly sure how this man was ruling Brooklyn.

“Well, maybe we can do something about that,” Steve said, eyes darkening, and Tony felt his body tensing up. He rose from his seat, closing any gap between them.

“Yes, definitely,” Tony said, about to press his lips against Steve’s.

Steve tutted, shaking his head. “Uh uh. Yes,  _ Captain _ . Let’s try again.”

“Yes, definitely, Captain. We should really do something about my hard on, right now. And yours, if I’m correct.”

“Eager, aren’t we soldier? Let’s move this to the bedroom, huh?”

“No, Captain. That’s way too late for me.” Tony said right before attacking Steve’s lips ruthlessly. Really, the one stupid word had undone them both so quickly.

They both stumbled to the bedroom, lips still attached, hands exploring every inch of each other’s bodies, as if it was the first time. Tony felt the pleasure running through his veins, his senses heightening, allowing him to take in every detail.

Steve pushed him into the room, against the wall, ripping his shirt with one clean, swift motion. Then, proceeded to immediately stop.

“Are you kidding me, Steve? Come on!”

“Tony, your abdomen is three different colors. We are not having sex now,” he replied, breathless and rumpled. He eyed the bruises a little more, using two fingers to poke at it and looking up when Tony hissed with pain. “Okay, we aren’t going to have sex for at least a couple of weeks.”

“Ugh, this is worse than getting kidnapped by Hydra.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Steve. It’s like getting a cupcake without frosting. It’s just a muffin, and who wants that?” Steve looked affronted.

“I happen to like muffins.”

“Of course you do, you generous Adonis, you,” Tony grumbled. “Now, what am I supposed to do, you ripped my shirt open.” He examined his shirt closely. “And you managed to take every button off. I really appreciate your muscles honey, but you gotta learn how to tone it down around us normal people.”

Steve looked critically at Tony before exiting the room. Tony could hear him rummaging around, and he finally came back with a shirt in hand.

“Clint’s about your size, so I stole a shirt from him.” He threw it to Tony.

“Steve, honey, sweetheart, light of my life, wind beneath my glorious 10 feet wings….”

“What?”

“I refuse to wear a light pink shirt that says ‘Shake it Off’, Steve. I will not wear it. It’s practically a crime. I feel like I’m betraying AC/DC.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“I cannot be seen wearing Taylor Swift lyrics.”

“Taylor who?”

“Oh my god, you run a mob in Brooklyn but you don’t know who Taylor Swift is? The Swifties will descend upon you with a vengeance.” Tony eyed the shirt speculatively. “And it seems like Clint will be among them. Honestly I never pegged Bucky’s type as a Swiftie fan.”

“Tony, put the shirt on.”

“Well, darling, even if I wanted to put the shirt on, I wouldn’t be able to. My beautifully bruised ribs completely prevent me from raising my arms.” Steve sighed before an idea struck him. He went into his own closet and pulled out an old-fashioned plaid button down that his mom had given him a long time ago. Tony eyed the shirt with distaste.

“Great, now I’ll look like that Grandpa from Up.” Steve was pleased to say that he understood that reference.  

“Tony. If you don’t put the shirt on, I will not cuddle with you on the bed.”

“That is a low blow, Captain Rogers. A low blow, indeed.” Reluctantly, Tony pulled on the shirt. “Help me with the buttons at least.” Steve quietly obliged, starting from the bottom and finishing at the top.

“There,” he said, before promptly scooping Tony in his arms (bridal style), and placing him on the sheets. “We can only cuddle for an hour. Then, I have to go kick some people's asses.”

“Fine. Yes. Leave your poor, injured boyfriend alone to fend for himself.”

“Bruce will be with you,” Steve replied, as he settled beside Tony. Immediately Tony put his head on Steve’s chest, using him as a pillow.

“Don’t kill anyone, ok?” Tony said softly, as he was entering the realm of unconsciousness. “Just injure them.”

“No promises,” Steve murmured. And after a few minutes later, he realized Tony had fallen asleep as his breath evened.

They ended up staying in bed until the next morning, Tony still clutched in Steve’s arms, because Steve was never going to give him up, and never going to let him down. 

(Tony, stop laughing. What the hell does rickrolling mean? Will you stop; you’re only going to hurt your ribs more). 

**Author's Note:**

> Drop by my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/stonyismymiddlename) :)
> 
> Wanna know where I got these ridiculous and irrelevant mob names? Here's the [link](http://themobmuseum.org/nickname-generator/)


End file.
